


And I Need it So Bad (Surf's Up)

by Lisafer



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, First Kiss, M/M, Remix, Romance, stupid bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwarves aren't the best surfers... but Gimli doesn't know that when he agrees to the bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Need it So Bad (Surf's Up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telemachus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Surf's up (and so am I)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1520582) by [telemachus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus). 



> The amazing telemechus created a wonderful AU that caught my heart, and she was kind enough to let me play in the sandbox with her. So this is done with all the thanks in the world, and the hope that it caught some of that special something that her fic has. Thank you, Tele, and thank you for being such a constant support in this corner of the fandom. ♥

The surfers are out there again, riding each wave as if they're masters of the universe. It'd be bloody annoying if they weren't so good-looking. I'm not the only one on the beach who feels this way; there are lots of people out here who should really wipe the drool off their chins.

“Ah! She's looking at me!” Kili punches my arm for emphasis. He's had an eye on the tall girl all week, and it's true – sometimes she looks back. “Do you think she'd let me buy her a pint tonight?”

We've seen them at the bar several nights this week, drinking wine and dancing with other surfers, other elves. It's a tough crowd to break into, even if you're as easy-going as Kili.

“Isn't she a little tall for you?”

“No taller than the guy you've been eying!”

I don't say anything – what the fuck am I supposed to say? Yeah, the blond elf has caught my attention. He's graceful and lithe and... well, I've had a few unfamiliar thoughts that have thrown me for a loop lately. I've checked out guys before, sure. But I don't remember ever wanting one this badly. I don't know what it means – about him, about me.

An impressive wave rolls in, and the elves ride it just as impressively. It can't be that difficult, surfing. Just a bit of balance, really. Is it normal to look that bloody good in a wetsuit? Not that he didn't look good other times. In the bar, dancing and drinking wine in those ridiculous skinny jeans, for one. Didn't leave much to the imagination.

And I have a fairly good imagination.

“Don't suppose they're dating, d'you Ki?” I ask. I don't think they are.

Kili laughs. “I don't think he's interested in her. But she could fancy him, I s'pose.”

We watch in silence for a while, sitting on the hot sand.

“You know, it's okay.”

“What is?”

“Fancying blokes.”

“Shut it, Ki.”

I watch them catch another wave, and I wonder what it would be like. I've been with girls, though not as many as most of my mates. What would it be like to kiss this elf? To pull his hair, to see him pant. 

Fuck, I shouldn't stay on this line of thought.

He doesn't even glance our way when they finally leave the water. His hair hangs long and straight, even as the sun dries it. He's laughing with his friend, along with other elves who had been surfing with them. They're all tall and athletic, and the blond has a swagger in his walk. Which makes sense, when he slings his arm around the girl's shoulder and begins to pull her suit down.

Fuck, I hate being wrong.

I glance at Kili, expecting him to look dejected and hurt – he's like a puppy sometimes – but he isn't. Instead, he keeps his eyes locked on her, giving her that grin that few people know how to refuse. And she moves away from her elf – she puts a bit of distance between them as if to say “I'm not with this bloke.”

Kili nods slightly as they walk by, but she turns her head to exchange another look with the blond. I can't see her face, but his – his is a thing of beauty. He smiles knowingly at her and they keep on walking, not even sparing a second glance at us.

He crosses the beach and puts his board down, and then yanks his wetsuit down to his waist. Mahal, he's perfect. He's slender, but muscled. It makes me wish I lived in a world where I could run my hands over his torso. Or my lips. Tongue. And he would close his eyes, like he's doing right now, and tilt his head into the sunlight.

He grabs a Coke and drinks greedily, turning slightly to face me. My mouth feels dry, watching the condensation from the can form droplets that slide down his hand and forearm. Watching his lips. His eyes open and lock with mine for a moment before I look away.

Caught in the act.

Fuck.

“We're going to the bar tonight, and I'll ask her out,” Kili insists. He's building himself up; he's popular with girls, but he's never gone for an elf.

“Yeah,” I answer, turning away and heading down the beach.

“You could always...”

“What?” I glare at Ki, daring him to continue.

He has the decency to shrug. “It's worth trying,” he says, “even if it's just to rule it out.”

 

The night isn't the instant success Ki was hoping for. We're drinking; they're drinking. They're dancing together, laughing and shouting over the music and occasionally heading back to the bar for more wine. Tossing their long hair.

I watch him over the top of my beer, sitting at a crowded table with my mates and some of the girls they've met or brought with them. Every so often he glances over, and I feel like the jeans I'm wearing – too tight, because they're actually Ki's – are shrinking. A fellow shouldn't look that good dancing.

“Let's grab another pint,” Kili says, and Ori and Fi join us.

So do the elves.

“You guys never go in the water?” the girl asks, sidling up next to Fili. “Just watch?”

Kili shrugs, and I can tell this isn't the opening he'd wanted.

“Don't see the point, really,” I say, looking directly at the blond. “Kids’ thing. Like bloody skateboarding.”

“Kids’ thing?” she asks, an unkind smile on her face. “You could do it if you tried? You two?”

“Fucking could,” I retort. Her smugness pisses me off, and I don't like that he's grinning along with her.

And then she challenges us. They'll hire boards and suits, and we have to properly catch a single wave. Kili agrees – the stakes are who buys dinner.

I look at the blond, and Mahal, his eyes are lit with excitement. “You gonna buy me dinner, elf?” My heart drops into my stomach while I wait for his response.

“No,” he says; I feel like a fucking fool. He slowly licks his lips and leans in. “I'll up the stakes. Blow job. Loser kneels.”

I jerk backward, away from him. I can hear the others – Ki, and also Ori and Fili – chiming in. But all I can think is that he's either positive he'll win, or he's content with losing. And thinking of the way he'd licked his lips, I can't help but wonder what they feel like.

“You're on.” Kili cheers, and so does his brother. Ori slaps me on the back and says I can't lose. But the elf has a look on his face that I can't figure out. I wonder if he expected me to back down.

I down the rest of my pint in one go and glare at him as I set the glass on the bar.

 

The next morning is complete shit.

Well, not complete. It would be nice if I could've kept my balance and stood up for one effing wave. My pride is soothed a bit by Kili – he's even worse than I am.

The elf – Legolas – is as fun as he is hot. We have plenty of time to talk, since Ki is completely absorbed with the girl, Tauriel. And she's not the smug elf that talked down to us last night. She's clever and amusing, and a pretty good instructor. We're just rubbish surfers.

And as the morning goes on – far too fast – all I can think is what's riding on this. I think he's actually interested – in me, in something more than just winning a bet – but I can't be sure. If I lose, he's going to know that I've never done anything like it before. And if he's not in it for me, if he's just looking for a blow job to brag about, this isn't going to end well.

I try to think positive, but then I'm distracted even more. It's impossible not to be, when I'm imagining what he'd look like, kneeling in front of me, hands braced on my hips. This thought doesn't help me at all; I'm off the board and in the water. Again.

When time's up on the boards and wetsuits, I wait for his cue. Let him call the shots. I can hear my mates laughing at us as we walk up the beach.

“I need to shower,” he says. “You'll be in the bar later?”

“Suppose so.” Can't just get it over with, can we? I walk off, wishing I could just face the humiliation now and be done with it.

 

“It could be worse,” Kili points out, as he's running a comb through his hair.

“Yeah, how?”

“I don't know – maybe if you had to do it in public. It's about time you gave it a go,” he added. “You've been staring at him all week.”

I fall back on my bed and groan. “Just fucking leave, Ki.”

He does, and I lie there, thinking about his bet and mine. Dinner would've been nice. Hell, maybe it would lead to something more. No pressure, if there's an option to back out. If it's overwhelming.

But I've gotta figure it out sooner or later.

Why not now?

Why not him?

There were worse options out there.

And not too many better ones.

 

He finds me at the bar, and I'm not drunk enough to feel good about it yet. I suggest going somewhere else – his place, maybe – because the last thing I need is my mates walking in on us when I'm making a total arse of myself, fumbling around or falling in love, or something in between.

“I've never done this before, so it won't be that good.” This is what I'd meant to say to him, but it comes out in a jumble, and with his expression changes, so I force out some other line to explain. “I'm not gay,” I tell him. “Just because I don't have a girl right now, doesn't mean – ” His eyes close and he looks a lot how I feel.

Fuck.

“I'm sorry. I – you're nice enough. I just – I don't want -” Bloody hell, my mouth keeps on running without my brain's help, and I can't say any of the right things. I don't want to let you down. I don't want to ruin having something real by starting off on the wrong foot.

Fuck’s sake, why can't I just tell him that I like him?

“It doesn't matter,” he says, his mouth a tight line of disappointment. “Forget it. Go on, go back to your mates. I-I didn't think it through.”

And he walks away.

I watch him, wanting to call him back. But that means going through with it, and I'm not ready.

So I watch him walk away.

 

“Did you even go?” Kili asks as he walks into the hotel room. I'm lying where I was when he left that evening, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Fuck off.”

“That bad?”

“Nothing happened. He let me off the hook.”

Ki sits on the bed beside me. “I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to sound disappointed if it's not something you wanted to do.”

“I made a bloody mess of it,” I say.

“Messes can be fixed, though.”

“But did you have fun?” I can tell he's been holding back.

“She's incredible.”

I nod. “At least something good came of it.”

“She's... she's the One, Gim.” He crosses the room to go to the loo, and I'm left there thinking about how lucky he is.

And he's right about me – I'm disappointed because I blew my chance. Maybe I didn't want to drop to my knees right there, but... it wasn't because I didn't want to do it at all. Just not yet.

So I'd sat here all night wondering what would've happened if I'd won the bet. It wasn’t like a guy like him couldn’t get a blow job easily enough without a bet. What was he expecting to get out if it?

Me.

This gorgeous creature – all light and muscle and grace – raised the stakes because he wanted me.

And I'd chased him off because I was scared. Worried about not being good at it. Scared of not living up to his expectations. Afraid that I liked him too much, and what that meant about me.

Whether I blew him or not, I like him.

The only difference is that now I'm left wondering what he'd taste and feel like, rather than knowing.

Maybe fucking an elf whilst on holiday is the perfect thing to sort out my own feelings. To determine if I like blokes more. And if I don't, no one needs to know.

But it's not about liking guys.

It's about liking him.

It's about the way I felt when he turned and walked away.

 

He's surfing by the time I leave the hotel, just as Kili said he would likely be. Seeing him now, after knowing how difficult it is to surf, makes him even more fantastic.

I watch for a minute or two, then head to the cafe to grab something to eat. Something for him, once he's done.

When I hold out a bacon roll and a cup of coffee to him, he just raises his eyebrows.

It’s all on me. I was the one who rejected him, so it was up to me to pull him back. Tell him how I feel.

My tongue is still running a different course to my brain, but I manage to get my point across. “Could we – maybe – no more bets. Just – spend some time?”

He doesn't answer. He does everything but answer: drinks the coffee, puts his board down, unzips and yanks down his wet suit. Stalling. He’s taunting me with his torso, under the guise of wanting to towel off. He dries his hair, his lips curving just a bit.

“Legolas?” I prompt.

“Friends?” he asks, taking my hand in his.

Friends.

Oh.

I’m not looking for a friend, though. And I know he isn’t, either.

It's now or never.

“Bit more, I was hoping. Just – need to – get used to it. Take it slow.”

He smiles and it's like I've never really seen him smile before – not like this, with his mouth and his eyes and his face full of radiant happiness. Happiness because of me. Me. And any hesitation I felt is suddenly gone: I pull him in for a kiss. And it's not awkward or disconcerting. It's everything.

Well, a bit of awkward. It's a first kiss, after all.

I realize, though, that it was never going to be just a holiday thing. This guy. It's a forever thing. He's my One.

We pull away from each other, and I can see it in his face. He knows. He feels it, too.

“Or not slow,” I say. He's breathless, and I want to find all of the other ways to make him lose his breath. “Not slow at all.”

And we stand there, an endless moment, perfect.


End file.
